


How the Light Gets In

by Quente



Category: Shetland (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Shetland Season 5, Timestamp, tying up loose ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:14:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quente/pseuds/Quente
Summary: “So…” Duncan said, touching their glasses together. “Here’s to the ladies we’ve loved and lost, eh?” His smile was just a hint bitter. It lay between them, sometimes, the knowledge that they’d both loved Fran.It was a funny thing, to have another man share that intimacy; to know where the freckles were on Fran’s back, and how she liked her coffee in the morning.~Season 5 ended with more questions than it answered, and I needed SOME kind of closure.





	How the Light Gets In

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to lovely human McG for the Scotpicking, and the rest of Morseverse Discord for getting me hooked on Shetland.

The stack of paperwork was higher than Jimmy Perez’s wooden inbox could handle, and that wasn’t even counting the electronic records waiting with red flags in email. It was funny what kind of paperwork dead bodies produced. And the more dead bodies, the more paperwork. With this case, the body count had mounted to eight before the end -- unthinkable. 

It was a mark of Jimmy’s own rattled state that he was looking at bodies as paperwork, not as their own individual universes of tragedy. He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to focus again on the details. _Young-Adult Male. South Asian. 5’9._ Each detail was another rip in his reality.

Usually Sandy pitched in with the scut work, but, well… Jimmy glanced over to Sandy’s desk, forlorn and bare without the laptop or stacks of papers or mug of half-finished tea. The laptop and papers had been collected as part of the investigation into Sandy’s actions in the trafficking case. And the tea was gone along with Sandy himself. 

The day was lasting forever. Jimmy heaved a sigh just as Tosh did the same. 

“The lot of you sound like leaky bellows,” Billy said, turning from his seat at the receiving window to cast a glare back into the room. “Go and have a beer, at least. Get some cheer back in you.”

“It’s just depressing. All these bodies, and without Sandy here,” Tosh admitted, throwing down her pen atop an equally hefty stack of papers. “I’m used to looking up and seeing his daft face, and when he’s not around I don’t know what to do with myself. Besides, there’s something else I need to do tonight.”

Tosh did look distracted. Jimmy bet it didn’t have as much to do with Sandy as it did with Tosh’s young man, the skinny one with the ridiculous smile who was clearly smitten with her. Had she sent him packing, the other day? It was hard to know which way was up after the intense concentration they’d given to the case. 

“What’s next for Sandy, sir?” Billy asked, the lines of his face falling into concern. It was a mark of how distracted they all were that Billy was even asking the question, when he knew that it wasn’t necessarily his business. 

Instead of giving Billy one of his more quelling looks, Jimmy sat back and considered.

“They’ll be calling him to Glasgow to give his statement to the review board. Not sure what happens after that, but he’ll be off duty until they’ve reviewed the case and decided on disciplinary action.” Jimmy couldn’t bring himself to say the word _suspended._

There was something else that bothered him about it all -- something about the gap between Sandy’s guileless blue eyes and the sights they’d seen, bodies lying in rows on a Shetland beach. Bodies draped over the familiar comforts of a family croft, drenched in blood.

Yep, that was enough thinking for one day. “Let’s go, Tosh. It’s time to get the hell out of here, at least for the night. We’ll talk about the rest of the week’s schedule tomorrow.” 

Besides, Jimmy also had something else on his plate, something he couldn't avoid too much longer. 

 

~

That was him, told.

Jimmy came home that night, finally, after he and Alice had said what they’d needed to say. 

Alice’s words were still a raw ache in Jimmy’s chest when he realized that Duncan was on the couch with his bags packed, waiting to say farewell too. He had to put a stop to that, and an offer of cash was out of Jimmy’s mouth before he could really think about it. 

Still, it felt right.

Duncan’s expression turned swiftly from glum to hopeful. Jimmy saw the sea change happen as he stood there, and Duncan’s joy touched something inside of him. They hadn’t even gone over the details and Duncan wanted to show him a mood board, whatever that was.

When they sat together over the folder, pizza and beer handy, Duncan’s light, thoughtful voice made for good background chatter as Jimmy did what he never seemed to have time to do -- mull over the past few days.

Outside the weather was fine. There was no mist in the late summer evening, despite a lady, somewhere, who was right pissed off at Jimmy for doubting her character. Jimmy couldn’t fault Alice for that. 

And, oh -- he’d wanted her. It was a combination of Alice’s toughness and spirit and, frankly, beautifully kept figure that did it for him, but perhaps all of those things together put the nail into the coffin of their chances. 

It took a moment before Jimmy realized that Duncan had stopped talking and was just looking at him, steady and understanding.

“What?”

Duncan took a swallow from the bottle in front of him before he answered, his eyes flickering down to the sheaf of papers spread before them, and up again to meet Jimmy’s.

“It just struck me that you’ve probably been through enough today. A few days ago was likely the worst day of my life, waking up with an eye full of beach sand, stumbling with a blind headache toward what I thought was some flotsam in the water -- only to realize that it was a person. A dead man, floating like someone’s garbage. And that wasn’t the first dead man you’d seen that week, was it?”

It took a moment for Jimmy to find an answer. The case was over, but it was always hard for him to break the mental barriers he always had in place, the ones that slammed down rather than let him answer a direct question. “Ah, aye, but it’s rare to find a whole lot of bodies all together the way you did. Then I just...shut down a while, file it away as part of the case. And once it’s over, I try my best to not ever open that mental file back up again.”

Duncan’s eyes were kindly now, soft and a little sad, looking over at Jimmy. “And how many of those closed files do you have locked up in that head of yours, Jimmy?”

Jimmy laughed, reaching over to grasp Duncan’s shoulder. “Enough for a lifetime.”

“Well.” Duncan settled back. “Are you owed any holiday? Want to take a week off with me? It would help me out a fair bit, I admit. We could get to some of the bank paperwork that I’ve been delaying, and I could use a hand sanding down some wood now that the man who said he’d help me out is, well, otherwise occupied.”

Jimmy leveled Duncan a _look_ , then shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you’d hold this over me, that I arrested him, in return for extracting a bit of free labor.”

Duncan smirked back at him. “Is it working?”

“Aye, all right. We’re shorthanded at the moment with Sandy on leave. But hopefully things return to normal around the island and I can take some half days. I’ll be splitting time with Tosh until he’s back.”

And that was a memory folder that Jimmy needed to sort through carefully rather than file away. Sandy was worth more than that, and Jimmy really needed to figure out what was bothering him about the situation.

“Honestly, anything you can spare,” Duncan said cheerfully. “And do you mind if I put my things back in Cassie’s room and stay a wee while longer?”

“I suppose,” Jimmy said with a mock frown, but felt relieved. The house was too quiet with nobody about in it, and even if Duncan didn’t have a head of dark hair and eyes that could take him apart, at least he knew Jimmy better than anyone in the world. “Come on, eat the last slice of this before I do.”

~

It wasn’t quite a holiday, but it felt like one. The first full day of Sandy’s absence made something ache in Jimmy’s heart, as if one of the deep, innocent parts of the island had finally been touched by the larger world. There had been repercussions to this last case, and one of them had been realizing that their island was no longer quite so cut off from the main.

Perhaps, Jimmy thought, glancing toward Rhona’s office, perhaps she’d made the right call when she’d gotten the higher-ups to review the situation. It would teach her staff proper procedure, especially if Shetland would be seeing more traffic from the mainland. 

Jimmy admonished Tosh to call him if anything struck her as odd, from a bird falling out of the sky to a missing sail on a fishing boat, and stood to leave.

“Just go already,” Tosh said finally, glancing up from where she’d been smiling at something on her phone screen. 

Well, at least one of them had resolved things for the better, Jimmy thought, shooting her a knowing grin he left.

Jimmy had to hand it to Duncan -- once he got into the swing of things, he didn’t shirk the hard labor. A small crew of electricians were dealing with outlets behind the bar while Duncan himself was at a workbench out back with an electric sander, peering down at the wood through some protective eyewear. He looked to be tidying up the skirting, but paused when Jimmy came, giving him a sideways grin.

“Thought you’d be called out on a case, or make one up just to get out of this,” Duncan said, straightening his back with a slight wince. “Anyway, get to work, will you?” He pointed to another sander that was plugged in and poised to go, next to another set of goggles. “We have a lot to finish up in a week.” 

Duncan’s smile was warm, however, and something else was in his expression. Jimmy couldn’t place it. Relief that he’d actually shown up?

“You’re welcome,” Jimmy returned, and removed a layer of jumper before digging in.

There was something meditative about doing something with his hands. Jimmy’s father had taught him how to care for their croft on Fair Isle -- down there, so few people were around that they had to do it themselves or live with the neglect. Never one to live with neglect, James taught Jimmy to research how to fix things when their knowledge gave way. 

It made Jimmy laugh just a little -- what if they’d had access to the internet while he was growing up? James would have been able to get rid of the thick sets of how-to manuals and encyclopedias that lined the shelves of his outbuilding where he kept all of the tools.

“What is it?” Duncan called, letting his sander idle to a stop. 

“Ah, just a thought. You know how Cassie’s always trying things in the kitchen after watching YouTube? I was just wondering what my dad would have done if we’d had internet growing up.”

“Probably figured out a way to broadcast his sermons to the moon,” Duncan said cheerfully. “He always did like when visitors were on the island -- someone new to inflict with all his stories.”

“I can just imagine dad with his own sermon channel,” Jimmy said, shaking his head. 

They got back to work, but even that small exchange eased something inside of Jimmy that had rankled at Alice’s last words.

What had she said? Something about holding himself apart because it was necessary for his job?

No human wanted that, not really. The words still ached in him because while they sounded true enough, Jimmy didn’t want them to be. And damn, his heart ached when he thought of the strength it took Alice to walk away from him after losing all she had in just one day.

Jimmy glanced over at Duncan.

Maybe it would be worth talking it through with the guy. At least Jimmy knew he wouldn’t be judged.

~

When they’d finished the stack of skirting they went home, arguing peaceably about who would fix dinner or whether they’d have takeout again. In the middle of it, Jimmy felt a sense of enormous gratefulness, the antithesis of the darkness he sensed he’d be feeling otherwise.

“What is it?” Duncan asked, glancing sideways as Jimmy paused in the middle of a discourse about the merits of mushrooms in stir fry.

“Ah, it’s just. You know what I’d be doing if you weren’t here? Sitting alone with a bottle of McCallan, kicking myself for whatever I did that made Alice walk away.”

“Well. Considering that it was her husband selling other human beings, it was kind of inevitable she’d get caught in the crossfire, eh? Maybe you can try it on with her again in a month or two, when she’s had a bit of time to calm down.”

“I’m thinking Chris is going to make it sticky, to say the least, if I have much to do with her during the trial. It’s -- the whole thing is a right mess, Duncan. And I’d like to say that we could have avoided it, but honestly…” There was too much going on in Jimmy’s head, a huge swirl of confusion about the nature of where they lived and everyone’s inevitable connection to everyone else. 

“It’s not like we’re in a big city where there’s a fair chance we don’t know the victims and accused. We’re all one big happy family here, and it’s bound to affect us all in one way or another.”

Sandy, for instance. How could Sandy not make decisions influenced by his very history in their community? It wasn’t as though Sandy could be impartial. Sandy had known Calum long enough enough to think he was bullshitting them, and challenged him to give them the trafficker’s name. 

Jimmy knew Sandy was only thinking of the lives they’d save if they found it out. But Sandy hadn’t understood the larger danger, wasn’t able to comprehend that Calum and his wife were both in great danger too.

How could a Shetland boy, born and bred, imagine that such things were possible? And would the administration in Glasgow understand that Sandy’s decisions were based on a world that didn’t normally contain such things as human trafficking?

“You look upset,” Duncan observed. “Let’s get some takeaway and hit that McCallan after all.”

A bit later, calories from their labor replaced, Jimmy slumped onto the couch beside Duncan and watched the golden glow from the glass hit his palm.

“So…” Duncan said, touching their glasses together. “Here’s to the ladies we’ve loved and lost, eh?” His smile was just a hint bitter. It lay between them, sometimes, the knowledge that they’d both loved Fran. 

It was a funny thing, to have another man share that intimacy, to know where the freckles were on Fran’s back, and how she liked her coffee in the morning.

Jimmy sipped, sighing as the drink eased the tension in his shoulders. “Alice. She was like this whiskey. A kick in my pants. And we never got much beyond a kiss.”

He thought about their kiss on that rainy night, how seeing her in front of his house, all alone, made it seem inevitable. And the taste of her, wet from the rain and opening her mouth to him -- ah, it made him ache from his balls to his brain. How he’d wanted to just take her, pressed up against the cold wet stones of his house. 

“Fuck.” Jimmy downed the shot in a long swallow.

Duncan put his hand on Jimmy’s arm, giving it a warm squeeze. “A fine man like you will get laid again someday, Jimmy. Don’t worry.”

Jimmy snorted, shaking his head. “It’s not getting laid that matters. It’s the rare woman who pushes back at me. Alice was brutal -- she cracked open all the barriers that I usually put up, in my head and heart both.”

“So that’s what you’re looking for in a woman,” Duncan said, after a moment. “I guess I can see it. Funny, I like mine a little nicer than that. Someone willing to overlook a night or two when I forget to come home.”

“You’re terrible,” Jimmy said, smiling. But he could see the appeal -- when Duncan looked at a person, it felt like you were getting every last drop of his attention, even if you told yourself it wasn’t sincere. The thing is, Duncan probably meant it every time. “What’s next for you now that Mary’s moved on?”

“Eh,” Duncan shrugged. “Work. And be your house-husband I guess. You’re the only one who always takes me back.”

Jimmy laid his head back against the couch and laughed and laughed, feeling the tickle of good humor move through his body, clearing out all the rubbish from the past weeks. “Christ, are you my destiny, then? I’ve seriously got to rethink my life.”

“Hey now. Don’t take me for granted already.” But Duncan smiled too, and Jimmy felt something inside of himself warm right up.

It was probably the whiskey.

No, Jimmy wouldn’t kid himself. It was Duncan.

~

By the end of the week, it was disturbing how much Jimmy had grown to like their routine -- work at the station in the morning, a fruitful afternoon of physical labor at the bar, and a night of food and drink and banter and warmth at home. It was good to see the bar coming together under their hands, and Jimmy could see the love that Duncan poured into it.

It was going to be a good place, not pretentious but also not lowbrow, a warm place for meeting friends during the dark days of winter. Just like Duncan, really. Sincere to everyone, as giving as he could be.

The warmth crept in, and touched a place inside of him that hadn’t been open for anyone, for quite a while. Maybe he’d relaxed too much, that week, but he found himself staring at the ceiling one night wondering why there wasn’t a warm body beside him. He’d grown too used to company at home...

It bothered him so much that Jimmy actually felt the wild urge to shake it off, disrupt the pattern before it became so much a part of him that he’d ache when Duncan inevitably moved on.

So in the middle of painting boards, Jimmy fished his phone out of his pocket and texted Sandy. 

_How are you holding up? Want to catch a pint tonight?_

_I’m OK all things considered. Sure._

Jimmy made plans to hit the Lounge with Sandy, and looked up to find Duncan’s eyes on him. 

“You’re ditching me tonight, aren’t you?”

Jimmy suddenly felt foolish, exposed. “I’m just catching up with Sandy. After the last case, he’s in a bit of trouble. I wanted to make sure he’s not dwelling on it.”

“I’ll accept your excuses, but you’d better bring me some flowers and chocolates,” Duncan said, his voice magnanimous. “But seriously, I did think it was too good to be true, you spending all this time with me. I know I’m not your favorite person in the world.” 

Then Duncan walked closer. His expression was frank, open. “I’ve enjoyed the company, Jimmy, but you’re nae my babysitter. Go do what you have to.”

Jimmy found himself, oddly, resisting the impulse to pull the other man into an embrace. He scrubbed his face with his hand.

“I really need to get laid,” Jimmy said, half sighing, half laughing. 

And then he caught the barest glimpse of Duncan’s expression as it changed, turning from earnest to intrigued all at once.

No, oh no. “Have you ever -- ?” Jimmy stopped himself. What the hell was he about to ask?

Then Duncan blinked, his dark eyes wide, and he looked away. “...Honest to God, I think I need to get laid too.”

Then they both laughed it off, but between them, Jimmy could feel that something had shifted. It felt like there was now something else there, the faintest hint of a possibility.

~

After Jimmy and Sandy had a drink or two at the Lounge, they found themselves walking together in the long light of the simmerdim, down Ronald Road to the park by the sound. The water was quiet that night, the tide out, and the wet pebbles of the shore below the greensward glowed in the half-light. 

Sandy looked how Jimmy felt. This last case had taken it out of them both, there was no denying it. Not like the usual case in Lerwick, where the crime was a rip in the fabric of their world that they could mend with detective work.

“How’s life at the nick?” Sandy’s question was wistful. 

“Quiet in a way that will likely lull us into a false sense of security,” Jimmy said, shaking his head, his mouth twisting just a little. “It’s strange. I can’t tell if this is normal and everything else was out of the ordinary, or if it’s the other way round.”

Sandy paused, sitting down on the low stone wall, staring across to the other side of the water. “I know what you mean.” His voice was soft. “So many dead, and for no reason. The only part of that case that made sense was when Jamie killed Prentice -- because that was about family, and not being able to take Prentice being cruel, any more. But the dead men in the water…and the girl.” 

The four bodies, bloated and discarded. The young woman in the trash bin. Jimmy knew what Sandy meant. “Are the bodies washing up on our shore a sign that nothing is safe anymore? Will there be more of this, and is this just the start? Aye, it’s been on my mind too.”

Sandy leaned back, his eyes taking on a lost expression that tore at Jimmy’s heart. “I’d heard of it, human trafficking. It felt like something I’d read in the news, in places where people are too bound up in fear to understand that everyone is human. I just never thought we’d live to see them here. Here, at home.”

Jimmy sat next to him, staring at the quiet water, across to the low green hill on the other side of the sound. It looked peaceful, like nothing more than a few sheep could interrupt the quietude of the sunlit night. Maybe the idea of a neat border around Shetland was a lie, though -- maybe nothing was truly cut off or set apart.

Maybe everything was porous, and maybe that was the only way for things to truly change.

“Perhaps we’ll go back to having one murder a year from the occasional tourist,” Jimmy offered, smiling at Sandy sideways, but no longer believing it.

“I just hope I’ll be back to help you with it.” 

“Me too.” And there was that ache again.

Jimmy's thoughts went back to that afternoon in Duncan’s bar, the look they’d shared for a scant second, between two men who’d unexpectedly found exactly what they’d wanted.

What if Jimmy were to push through all the boundaries he'd drawn around himself?

Would it be worth risking everything, including this place apart that he'd carved out?

“It’s been a hell of a case, hasn’t it?” Sandy said, eventually. “I don’t know how to settle my brain -- I guess I won’t know until after the hearing. It’s a matter of figuring out what to do with myself until then.

Jimmy clasped Sandy’s shoulder in sympathy. It all sucked, and it was hard to know what to say. “I think we’re all feeling it. Nothing is the same.”

 

~

Still feeling unsettled, Jimmy let himself in as quietly as he could, only to spot Duncan sitting awake on the couch, a bottle in front of him.

So, they were doing this. 

Jimmy swallowed hard, feeling the simultaneous rush of adrenaline and fear washing away his tiredness. Well, nothing worth doing was ever easy. 

“That better not be my McCallan,” Jimmy said, heading to the couch to sit beside Duncan, keeping a cautious distance in case he’d read everything wrong.

Duncan smiled, eyes still averted. “No, it’s new. The other one was getting a bit low. How’s Sandy?”

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy reached out his hand, letting it fall to Duncan’s shoulder. Then he slowly ran his fingers up Duncan’s neck, letting the warmth of Duncan’s skin ease the chill of his own.

Duncan let out a breath and tilted his head back, his eyes closing. “I thought I’d imagined it,” he said.

“No,” Jimmy said quietly. He could feel the pulse in Duncan’s neck, and wanted to trace it with his tongue. How strange, to go from noticing that Duncan was interested in him too, to being this fiercely curious about Duncan’s everything -- but especially, right now, the taste of him.

Maybe it had always been there, but it had taken getting his heart cracked open again to notice it.

“Then, Jimmy Perez, what are you waiting for?” Duncan turned to give him the kind of heated look that likely got women climbing out of their knickers. Jimmy scooted closer, finding that he was smiling.

“What do we do if this fucks everything up?” Jimmy asked, letting the tip of his finger linger on that beating pulse, feeling it speed up, the light flutter causing a tingle down his spine.

“What we always do. Yell at each other. Make up. Stick together for our daughter’s sake.”

Jimmy huffed a laugh -- wasn’t that the truth. They were tied together by a stronger force than shared history, even -- by a living, breathing girl that they both adored. But would it be more than a one-night stand?

“Your brain is working overtime.” Suddenly Duncan’s warm hand was on Jimmy’s thigh. “Come on and kiss me, idiot.”

Their mouths met, breath mingling, and for a while all Jimmy could think and feel was warmth and light -- Duncan’s lips on his, his hands encouraging and curious, all over Jimmy’s arms, his back -- 

The utter relief of knowing that the person who understood him best somehow wanted him for what he was.

After a long moment, realizing that he was getting hard from their kisses, Jimmy pulled back. “No wonder Fran fell for you,” he said, catching his breath, noticing how red and wet Duncan’s lips were. 

“Bringing up our dead wife, you old sweet-talker,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “Are you playing hard to get, now? Because I was about to try for second base.”

Jimmy laughed again, pillowing his forehead on Duncan’s shoulder, feeling a surge of affection so powerful it made his arms tighten around Duncan’s torso, holding him close.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~

They left the picture of Fran up where she could see them, coming to an unspoken, humorous conclusion that she’d probably enjoy watching her two men try it on together. She’d likely planted the seeds for this years ago -- whispering dirty things in the throws of passion, about how she’d want to take them both at once, perhaps, or have them touch her together.

The warmth and light touched him again, heady and dizzying, as Jimmy stripped off his sweater and jeans and socks, leaving on his pants for the sake of modesty. 

“Oh. To answer your question from earlier, Sandy is okay. He’s a bit put out, of course. But all he can do is try his best to get through it until the call comes. He’s sitting around, I worry he’ll just stew.”

“Bringing up other men already,” Duncan grumbled, clambering onto Jimmy’s bed and settling back. He was naked but for socks. Jimmy poked at them, chuckling. “What? You’ll thank me, if you ever feel the ice blocks on my legs touch your skin.”

This man already felt precious to him, Jimmy realized, naked but for socks and all. 

He let his hand travel up the fur of a slender thigh to Duncan’s lazy looking dick, cupping the warmth briefly before continuing up to his chest. Duncan was well-kept for a man his age, with scars that made him look like his history was as rich as Jimmy’s own. Duncan's body delighted him.

Jimmy rolled onto him for another kiss, and this time when he felt them both hardening up together, he didn’t pull back.

They didn’t try for anything complicated, just the friction of their bodies. Jimmy took his time, sensing Duncan’s growing frustration whenever he eased up at just the wrong moments, holding down Duncan’s wrists in a firm grip so that he couldn’t do a thing about it.

“I swear to God, Jimmy Perez. If this is what you do to your lovers no wonder you’re alone.” Duncan’s body moved despite his tone, his hips shifting up in a firm and meaningful rub of all the right parts. 

“I admit it’s a hobby. Teasing people until I see what they’re made of. Helps me in interrogations, too.” There was a beautiful spot along Duncan’s collarbone that made his fingers clench when Jimmy bit it.

“This is not an interrogation!” Duncan in turn sought the part of Jimmy’s neck that he’d already identified as a weak spot, giving it the softest flicker of tongue.

Oh, Lord, Duncan’s tongue. Jimmy could imagine all the things it could do.

“Have you ever -- with a man?”

“All this talking,” Duncan growled, shifting restlessly again. “The answer will continue to be ‘no’ if you don’t do something about it soon.”

Jimmy laughed, and then was struck by how long it had been since he’d felt comfortable enough with someone to laugh in bed.

“Duncan,” Jimmy said, infusing the word with praise, and thanks, and joy. He leaned down and kissed him again, wrapping Duncan up in his arms, feeling so very warm.

~

Clouds were rolling in. Jimmy could see them out of his bedroom window, gathering in the simmerdim and casting the land beneath in a darkness close to true night. He pressed more firmly against Duncan, feeling a heartbeat against his ear, feeling -- as he had not done in a long, long time -- the sense of another human helping to ward off the dark.

“Maybe,” Duncan said, his fingertips lightly running along a scar that lined Jimmy’s side, “Maybe Sandy can take this time to do something useful, aside from just wait around for the call. You’ll be back at work full time next week. I can pay Sandy a bit of a wage, if you don’t mind letting me borrow him to help build the bar.”

“That’s an idea,” Jimmy said, smiling because Duncan was already taking on Jimmy’s worries as his own. But when Jimmy thought about it, he realized that Duncan always had, more or less, if it was important. They had always been family -- and now they were also lovers. “At least it would keep him from sitting around fretting.”

“I’ll sack him if he’s lazy, though,” Duncan said, and Jimmy felt lips against his forehead. “I’ve got to work hard to make back your investment.”

Jimmy scooted up on the pillow, shifting them so that they faced each other, dark eyes meeting blue. They looked at each other steadily for a long moment before they both began to chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Fran, thinking that we’re both daft old men. Look at us, here. How about you, Jimmy?”

“I feel like I’ve done the right thing for the first time in weeks.”

“I guess once you’ve kissed another man’s wife, it’s only a short descent to your wife’s ex-husband?”

“Duncan!” After a moment of playful wrestling, Jimmy realized that he was feeling heat stir inside of him again. 

“Jimmy Perez, how old are you again? And you’re up for another round?”

“I’ve got to keep you tired out so that you don’t go looking.” Jimmy settled over Duncan, smiling down at him. 

Duncan stared up at him, his expression full of astonishment. “I...really? You want to make a real go of it, with me?”

“You’ve already told me that if anything goes wrong, nothing will change. With odds like that, why not?”

Despite the total lack of romance in Jimmy’s words, Duncan’s smile was full of fondness.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

**Author's Note:**

> _Forget your perfect offering_   
>  _There is a crack in everything_   
>  _That's how the light gets in_   
>  _\-- Leonard Cohen_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nothing2c) if you are.


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